Rattled Recollections
by Jade II
Summary: Draco and Hermione wake up in bed together with no memory of how they got there. Oneshot.


**Author's Note:** Written for dmhgficexchange on LJ. The request was as follows: 

_**Rating(s) of the fic you want**: R - NC-17_

_**One tone/mood you want your gift to include**: Comedy, light wit_

_**One element/theme/item you want your gift to include**: Post-Hogwarts, but not together (yet)._

_**One common cliché you don't want your gift to include**: Draco or Hermione death/sacrifice_

When I said I could write an R-rated fic I never thought I'd have to write fluffy sex (which I find the most difficult thing to write, ever). I can do fluff, I can do sex, just _please_, no one ask me to do both at once ever again! 

That said, I hope you enjoy the fic, because it's one of the most difficult things I've ever written :D

* * *

Hermione Granger stretched, then snuggled further into the bedcovers before opening her eyes. 

She winced at the bright mid-morning sunlight which was streaming in from the window opposite and then blinked slowly in confusion. 

She was on the wrong side of the bed. 

Perplexed, she tried to work out why that might be. She couldn't really remember much about the night before -- she had been in the Leaky Cauldron celebrating Ginny's birthday with rather large amounts of alcohol, which was probably why. She certainly didn't remember coming home, so probably someone had brought her back and helped her into bed, as tended to happen on those rare occasions when she actually drank more than a glass of wine. She usually woke up with a hangover and still wearing her clothes from the night before. 

That was when she realised that she was naked. 

She felt her body tense. This had never happened before. She was _not_ the kind of person that things like this happened to! 

But she had read enough books -- and heard enough anecdotes -- to realise that when one woke up naked in bed and couldn't remember the night before, it usually meant that one had... not been alone. 

She took a deep breath, and rolled over to look at the other side of the bed. 

Then she shrieked. 

The noise was enough to awaken the man lying next to her, whose head shot up with a start. When he saw her his body started as well, but having only just regained consciousness he did not yet have much control over it. He fell off the bed. 

Hermione pulled the sheets higher over her chest and watched apprehensively as he stood up, wobbled, calmed down momentarily when he regained his balance, only to go into full-blown panic mode again when he realised that he wasn't wearing any clothes. 

He tried to grab one of the sheets, but as Hermione was already clutching them rather tightly a minor tug-of-war ensued, which was ended by her shouting "Let _go_, Malfoy!", after which he covered himself as best he could with his hands and scowled at her. 

"Where I my _clothes_, Granger?" he demanded. "What have you done to me!" 

"What have _you_ done to _me_, you mean!" she exclaimed. "What do you think you're doing in my bedroom! In my _bed_!" 

"I shudder to think!" 

"Well, so do I!" 

They stared at each other, trying not to be conscious of each other's obvious nakedness. 

"Oh, here, have this..." Hermione finally said in a disgruntled tone, handing him one of the sheets. 

It was pink. 

"Don't you dare laugh," Malfoy said threateningly, tying it around his waist. 

"Malfoy, if I didn't laugh when you were standing there with your hands over your groin I'm not going to laugh now. I'd appreciate it if you would leave the room while I get dressed, though." 

He sneered for a moment, shrugged indifferently and walked out into the hall. 

Hermione leaned back into the pillows and tried not to faint from shock. 

This was quite possibly the worst thing that had ever happened to her, and it wasn't as if she hadn't had more than her fair share of bad experiences. But to wake up _naked_ next to _Malfoy_, after probably having done goodness knew what with him the night before... yes, right now that really seemed to take the biscuit, the cake, and most of the rest of the dessert course as well. 

She glanced at the doorway apprehensively, pulled the sheet more tightly around herself and tiptoed over to close the door. She sighed and leaned against it, scanning the room for any telltale signs of mindless (because it would really have had to have been mindless) passion, but everything looked rather normal now that there wasn't an unclad Malfoy standing in front of her. She wondered where their clothes had got to -- surely she wouldn't have bothered to put them in the laundry basket? 

She checked anyway, but it was empty save the skirt she had spilt coffee on yesterday morning. And she had thought _that_ was a bad start to a day... 

Opening the wardrobe, Hermione sought out the most boring, unrevealing clothes she could find, stepped into her worn old tartan slippers and went out into the living room to find Malfoy. 

He was carefully tying what were clearly his robes around his thankfully no-longer-naked body. He looked up as she came in, then nodded his head towards the sofa. "I presume those are yours," he said, looking disdainfully at the clothes which were lying there. "I never imagined you as someone who would wear g-strings or anything, but _Merlin_, Granger, how boring can you get?" 

Hermione blushed, which made the glare she gave him all the more fierce. "I was _going_ to offer you some coffee." 

Malfoy's face lit up. "Make mine black." He turned around and began scrutinising the photographs on the mantelpiece. 

Hermione sighed in exasperation, but went next door to begin brewing the beverage which would hopefully either convince her that this was indeed real and that she could therefore find some kind of solution to it, or that it was all a bad dream and that she was going to wake up, any minute, in blissful solitude. 

Unfortunately neither option seemed particularly likely. It was probably real, but she had no idea whatsoever how to resolve this particular dilemma. 

Malfoy appeared in the doorway. "Half your photographs are frozen, Granger. I think that shows a new level of ineptitude, even for you." He leaned casually against the doorframe, playing with one of her baby photos. 

"They're Muggle pictures," Hermione replied curtly. "They're not supposed to move." 

"How boring!" He shook the picture, as if that would make it suddenly come to life. "That's even worse than black and white!" 

She sighed yet again. "Look, do you want this coffee or not? I could just as easily throw you out, you know." 

"No, I want the coffee." Malfoy left again. 

Hermione poured the steaming liquid into two mugs and followed. 

She handed him one mug and sat on the sofa, surreptitiously shoving the pile of her clothing under a cushion. Malfoy joined her, and they sat together in a rather awkward silence, sipping at their drinks. 

"Malfoy..." Hermione ventured eventually, "Do you remember what we, er, _did_ last night?" 

"No," he said thoughtfully. "Which is strange, because I don't usually forget _everything_. What about you?" 

"Not a thing. It's rather unsettling, really." 

"You don't think we really made mad passionate love or anything, do you? Because I don't think I can quite stomach the thought of that." 

Hermione would have been offended by this, but then she realised that she was thinking the exact same thing. "Me neither," she replied instead, a rather disturbed expression passing over her features at the mere thought. 

Malfoy laughed. 

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "What's so funny? I thought we were busy being completely traumatised." 

He quickly rearranged his face into a more serious expression, but there was still mirth in his eyes. "Well yes, but the look on your face was really sort of... endearingly funny." 

Her eyebrows shot up even further. "Endearing? Malfoy, your suddenly finding me endearing isn't making things look good on the 'nothing happened last night' front." 

"I never said _you_ were endearing! Honestly, I'm not going to completely reverse my opinion of you just because you gave me a cup of coffee!" 

"Well, I'm glad we've cleared that up." 

"Good." 

There was a pause before Hermione said, "And I still find you utterly revolting, just so we're _completely_ clear." 

"Oh yes. Completely." 

"Right." 

Silently, they finished their coffee. 

"Well," Malfoy said finally, standing up and putting his mug on the table. "I should be going." 

Hermione looked up at him and nodded. "Okay." 

"Yes." He took out his wand. "Right." 

And he Disapparated, leaving Hermione to lean back on the sofa and sigh once more in confusion and despair. 

-- -- 

A few days later Hermione was having lunch with Ginny in a small Italian restaurant near Oxford Street. 

"In conclusion," Ginny was saying, "My boss is an idiot. I wish he _had_ fired me." She narrowed her eyes and stuck her fork into her pizza rather viciously, then shook her head and looked up at Hermione. "Anyway," she said, "How are you?" 

"Oh, I'm fine. Nothing very interesting going on." 

"So you're not going to tell me what happened with Malfoy the other night, then?" 

Hermione almost choked on her orange juice. "What?" 

Ginny grinned. "You left the pub together! Looking very cosy, the two of you were." 

"I don't know what you mean," said Hermione, trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt. 

"Rubbish. You went all red the moment I mentioned his name!" 

Hermione sighed. "Oh, all right... but I still can't tell you anything because I can't _remember_ anything. I just woke up next to him and almost died of shock." 

"Bummer." Ginny nodded sympathetically. "I bet he's really good in bed." 

"Ginny!" Hermione hissed. "Please, I'd really rather not think about it." 

"Fine. You _are_ coming out tonight though, right?" 

"I really don't know, Ginny..." 

"_Please_, Hermione. Ron and Harry have caught this stupid stomach bug and I really need someone to drink away my sorrows with." 

"Will you absolutely _promise_ not to let me get really drunk and go home with Malfoy or anything?" 

Ginny grinned. "Cross my heart." 

-- -- 

Hermione did her very best not to freeze when she entered the Leaky Cauldron and saw Malfoy sitting at the bar. She had sort of hoped he wouldn't be there, but she knew that he and his colleagues from the Ministry often came here for drinks of an evening. She shook her head and looked around the room, hoping he hadn't spotted her. 

"Hermione!" 

She turned around and saw Ginny, who was sat at a table with Colin Creevey. Trying to put a convincing smile on her face, she went over and sat down. 

"Hello," said Ginny happily. 

"Hi Hermione," said Colin. 

"Hello." Hermione looked at Ginny. "You seem to have cheered up a lot since this afternoon." 

Ginny grinned. "Colin's agreed to try and get a really scandalous article written about my boss in the Daily Prophet." 

"Colin!" Hermione was shocked. "You can't do that!" 

"Why not?" said Colin, wearing a grin identical to Ginny's. "I've already got the pictures." 

Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help but be intrigued by this. "Pictures of what?" 

"Of him having an 'intimate moment' with a Hogwarts seventh-year. A _male_ Hogwarts seventh-year." Ginny smiled wickedly. 

"Ginny..." Hermione sighed. "First of all, that's nobody's business but their own, not if he's a seventh-year. And second, you were fooling around with _Snape_ when you were _sixteen_! Aren't you being a bit hypocritical?" 

"No, just vindictive... Anyway, I'm drunk. You _know_ I do crazy things when I'm drunk." 

"Which you usually end up regretting." 

"No I don't! And this is the best one yet! Even better than I did the other night!" 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What did you do the other night?" 

"Ohh," Ginny shook her head. "I can't tell you. You'd _really_ be angry with me." 

Hermione tried to stare her down, but Ginny wouldn't give in. 

Sighing, Hermione turned to Colin. "Colin, please don't do this." 

He shook his head. "Out of the question. This story's so good I'll probably get a promotion." 

"Oh, for goodness' sake, where's your conscience? What about the poor student? Think what this'll do to him!" 

"I'm a journalist, Hermione; my conscience is twisted at best. He'll survive." 

"Colin, you're not a journalist, you're a junior photographer." 

"Which is why I need to move up the career ladder." 

Hermione sighed again. "I'm going to get a drink." 

She walked over to the bar in a huff. Sometimes she really worried about the state of Ginny's moral fibre. Oh, she wasn't a bad person, but in her obvious efforts to out-do Fred and George's stunts she did seem to let go of her scruples a little too easily. This was not helped by the fact that the two of them openly encouraged her. Hermione was really going to have to talk to them about this. 

She was so absorbed in this train of thought that she failed to notice Draco Malfoy sidling up to her until he was uncomfortably close. She did her best not to look too embarrassed. 

"Alright?" Malfoy asked awkwardly, resting an arm on the bar. 

"Er, fine thanks." Hermione found that she couldn't look at him. She tried to catch the barman's attention so that she could get her drink and retreat to her table. 

"What're you drinking?" 

Hermione's head snapped around. She stared at him. "Are you offering to buy me a drink?" she asked incredulously. 

"Um. Yes. I suppose I am." 

"_Why?_" she couldn't help but ask. 

"I really don't know," Malfoy admitted. "Look, do you want this drink or not?" 

Hermione shrugged. "Alright." 

"Excellent. Barman!" he called. "Two firewhiskies." 

"Hey, I didn't say I wanted a..." Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You're not trying to get me drunk, are you?" 

"No," Malfoy said curtly, turning away from her to watch the barman preparing the drinks. 

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I don't believe this." She turned on her heel and began to walk back towards her table. 

"Granger!" Malfoy sounded vaguely offended as he followed her and grabbed her elbow. 

She turned to face him, crossing her arms. 

"Seriously, I'm not trying to get you drunk. You can have something else if you want." 

Hermione sighed again, but relented. "No... firewhiskey's fine." She managed a smile -- she felt like she had to, though it felt strange giving one to Malfoy, of all people. "Thanks." 

A couple of hours and several drinks later she was in the alley behind the pub with his hand under her skirt. 

-- -- 

There was a vague feeling somewhere in the back of her mind that she shouldn't be doing this with him, it was true... but, she reasoned, she had probably already done much worse things with him the other night, so it wasn't like she was going to have a one-night-stand or anything. More like... a two-night-stand, which was surely not nearly as bad. 

Besides, she hadn't really had any kind of male attention since she had broken up with Ron after leaving school, more than a year ago now. 

She shivered as Malfoy ran a finger up the bare skin of her inner thigh. Looking at his face, she saw him staring downwards rather intensely, a small, self-satisfied smirk raising the corner of his mouth. 

The finger stopped its ascent a couple of inches away from her most sensitive area and was moved back down behind the knee of the other leg, where it began, excruciatingly slowly, to rise again. But again it stopped before it was where she wanted it to be, and the whole thing started again, and then again and again, slowly, so slowly, moving closer each time by mere fractions of inches. 

Malfoy's smirk became more prominent when she breathed out loudly in frustration. 

He was teasing her, and enjoying it just a smidgen too much for her taste. She decided to take matters into her own hands and roughly took his chin between her thumb and forefinger, bringing her lips up to brush against his before placing feather light kisses on his cheek and down his neck. 

He responded to this by finally bringing his finger up to stroke the lips of her vagina, which were by now wet with anticipation. She breathed deeper as he added another finger, stroking, stroking but oh so lightly, oh so slowly, and never going deeper or further up... 

_God, Malfoy, you sadistic bastard..._

Realising that she was going to have to do something in return in order to get those fingers where she really wanted them, Hermione slithered her hand underneath his robes, trailing it up the gorgeous roughness of his leg and then moving to grasp his hardened penis through his plain cotton pants. 

She felt him tense in reaction and rubbed him with her thumb. Looking at his face and grinning when she saw him close his eyes and gasp, she was completely unprepared when he suddenly pushed both fingers inside of her and was forced to take a shuddering breath herself when he flexed his fingers and began moving them in and out. 

Seeking revenge, she pulled his pants away and clasped him more firmly in her hand -- only to have him remove his hand from between her legs, pull hers away from him by the wrist and lift her off the ground roughly by the thighs, thrusting himself inside of her. 

She was really struggling for breath now; the intensity of what she was feeling was almost too much to bear. Her eyes fluttered shut, but she could _feel_ him watching her, delighting in what he was doing to her, that ever-present grin growing wider and wider. Then he reached down, rubbed her hard, too hard really, and she was pushed over the edge; she couldn't keep herself from crying out, curling the fingers with which she was clutching at his back, and then her mouth was dry and her head was spinning... 

-- -- 

Hermione woke up to a loud knock on the front door. She lifted her head -- and lowered it back onto the pillow when a splitting headache pounded through her temples. 

She groaned and tried to work out who could possibly want to see her this early on a Saturday morning. But after a moment she gave up this effort, sighed, grabbed her dressing gown and went to find out. 

It was Ginny, wringing her hands nervously and cringing when she caught sight of her. "Hi," she said. "Can I come in?" 

"Of course," said Hermione, though in her head she was saying _no, please go away so I can go back to bed..._

Hermione had barely closed the door when Ginny blurted out, "Look, I did something really awful and please, please forgive me, I was incredibly drunk..." 

Hermione sighed. "What is it?" 

Ginny began pacing up and down the small hallway. "You know the other day when you woke up in bed with Malfoy?" she said, avoiding eye contact. 

"How could I forget?" 

Ginny cringed again. "Well, you didn't sleep with him. I was really drunk, and you had got into this really heated debate with him and there was sexual tension sparking all over the place... And, well, somehow I got it into my head that it would be funny to knock you both out, erase your memories of a couple of hours and leave you both here." 

Hermione was stunned. "Ginny..." 

"I'm sorry!" 

"God, Ginny, how _could _you!" 

"I don't know, I really don't! This is the most horrible thing I've ever done in my life! But then I saw you go out the back with Malfoy last night and I felt so guilty and I had to tell you, and I'm so sorry and I understand if you never want to speak to me again!" 

Ginny was practically hysterical by now. Hermione sighed. "It's alright, I don't hate you." 

"Really?" 

"Yes, really. I got a decent shag out of it, after all." She felt herself turn beetroot red as she said this, but she felt like she had to tell _someone_, and Ginny was probably the safest. 

Probably. 

Ginny's eyes widened. "Last night?" 

Hermione nodded. "Of course, he disappeared afterwards without even saying goodbye." 

"Well, yeah, Hermione -- he's _Malfoy_." 

"I know but... we talked for quite a while beforehand. He seemed like he was actually trying to be civilised for a change." 

"Yes, to get you into bed." 

"You're probably right." Hermione sighed. 

"I'm sorry," Ginny said again. 

"You're forgiven. Just this once, mind." 

Ginny nodded gratefully. 

Hermione smiled. "Would you like some coffee?" 

-- -- 

Hermione closed the door behind Ginny and leaned against it, rubbing her still aching head. 

Well. At least Ginny's confession had explained some things. 

Now to forget all about it and move on. 

She made her way back to the bedroom to find some proper clothes and see if she couldn't do something about her headache. However, as soon as she had opened the wardrobe there was another knock on the door. 

_Probably Ginny's forgotten her bag or something..._

She was quite surprised to find Malfoy standing outside, holding a long-stemmed yellow rose and looking rather uncomfortable. 

She looked at him questioningly, not quite daring to speak. 

"Um," he said. "I got you this." He handed her the rose awkwardly. 

"Thank you," she said, touched despite herself. 

"Look, last night... Well, do you remember it this time, for starters. 'Cause I do." 

And Hermione grinned. "Oh yes," she said. "Why don't you come inside?" 

**The End**


End file.
